


Cheap Beer and the Taste of Bullshit

by nicoleaf



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Roman Catholicism, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, but only referenced
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 05:02:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10690269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicoleaf/pseuds/nicoleaf
Summary: "It's like my 'soulmate,'" he drew out the word sarcastically, "is a bottle of cheap beer. It's good, it does the job. But if I only had that beer, I'd never know how good whiskey or wine or tequila and all that other good stuff can taste."Or, Dennis doesn't believe in soulmates, but Mac absolutely does.





	Cheap Beer and the Taste of Bullshit

They don't talk about them- the marks on their arms.

Dennis doesn't but into the idea of destiny, or the idea of everyone being destined for one specific person.

"It's like my 'soulmate,'" he drew out the word sarcastically, "is a bottle of cheap beer. It's good, it does the job. But if I only had that beer, I'd never know how good whiskey or wine or tequila and all that other good stuff can taste."

As if to prove his point he quickly downed another shot, ignoring Dee's argument that maybe his soulmate was the best goddamn beer in the entire world, and that he was just sullying his palate by messing around with every person who would sink low enough to meet him.

Sometimes Mac loved Dee, although he would never let her know that. Mac didn't really care for being compared to a bottle of shitty beer. It was as if Dennis wasn't completely aware of who his soulmate was. Oddly enough, Dennis never tried to hide his soulmate mark, instead letting everyone in the world look at it. Let them look at Mac's name. 

Mac on the other hand, was much more traditional and conservative with his mark. He covered it with a small black band. The only people who had ever seen it were himself and his family. 

However his family had been far from pleased when they had seen it. There was was no way in hell "Dennis" was a girls name, no matter how you tried to pronounce it.

"Maybe it's a typo, maybe it's actually 'Denise.'" His mother had offered, the bags under her eyes seeming to darken. 

"God don't make typos." Mac's dad had grunted, taking a swig of something dark and cheap. "But the devil does." He added darkly.

From that day forward Mac had work his dark band, never daring to take it off and bare the name "Dennis Reynolds" to the world. But sometimes, in his darkest, loneliest moments, he would slip the band down his arm and trace the inky black letters that contrasted so deeply with the pale white of his arm, and dream of someone who would love him.

Suddenly Mac was drawn back to reality by the screeching harpy bird known commonly as Dee Reynolds.

"Will you stop pining and moping and go make out with your Dennis?" She glared at him. "The unresolved sexual tension you two are giving off is scaring off customers. Not everyone wants to see you two have eyesex across the bar!" She yelled in frustration, throwing up her arms in anger.

Ma sputtered, "w-w-what are you talking about? I - What-? We don't-"

"Oh save it, everyone knows that you and my brother are supposed to be that gooey squicky soulmate couple that everyone hates but secretly wants to be part of. My idiot brother just can't get a fucking clue!" She sighed before taking a long drink of her beer, slamming it down on the table. 

Before Mac could protest Dee roughly shoved him toward the table where Dennis sat, surrounded by a plethora of girls who reeked of cheap perfume and even cheaper beer. 

Summoning his courage, Mac traced the inside of his wrist where the black band sat. He could do this. He was Mac, not Ronald McDonald, not Ronnie the Rat, but Mac. He was strong, he had tribal tattoos, and by God he was Dennis Reynolds soulmate. 

But even as he strode toward his intended target, he could feel his resolve starting to falter until he came to a stuttering stop. 

Dennis looked up at him, cocking his eyebrow at him amusedly. "Is there something you wanted?" He asked, slightly annoyed but with a smirk painted on his lips.

Mac stared at him, at a loss for words for once in his life. Finally he summoned his strength and let out a raspy whisper that sounded so unlike him and yet spoke of everything he had ever longed for. "You."

Suddenly Dennis was out of his seat and pressing Mac against the bar, his hot mouth pressing insistently against Mac's. Mac parted his mouth, allowing Dennis's tongue to explore the inside of his mouth. 

Dennis tasted like salt and lime and cheap tequila with an underlying note of something so unique that it could only be purely him.

"About fucking time." Dennis breathed out, hot breath nearly scalding Mac's cheek.

"Just never compare me to cheap beer ever again, ok?" Mac requested, breathing heavily. Dennis let out a sharp a full laugh, nearly causing the two of them to topple to ground.

"What? I'm obviously a whiskey!"


End file.
